Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “Would you?” she asked, trying to hold back the new flood of tears that threatened to invade her. For the first time in her life she was grateful that Grange was there beside her. He had some inner strength that she had always admired, for some reason. And at the moment, all her strength had suddenly drained away.

  She felt his strong hand on her elbow, as he led her to his carriage. “You should have agreed to marry me,” he whispered, hoping to strike some angry chord in her, to lift both his spirit and hers.”

  She turned to look at him. “Yes, I should have,” she whispered back. “I would marry you a million times before I would ever willingly marry that man.”

  Her answer surprised him because it sounded so sincere. “I’m sorry, Lavonia. Max Paddington took gross advantage of both you and your father. He is an unscrupulous man and doesn’t deserve anyone as lovely as you.”

  “I suppose you are satisfied now,” she said, as he helped her up in his carriage.

  “In what way?”

  “I will be the talk of the town, and you will make sure every reader knows I have finally fallen off that pedestal you claim me to be on.”

  “It is my job,” he mumbled. “I report the news.” He put his hand over hers. She had not even taken time to put on a pair of gloves, and his warm hand engulfed her small cold one.

  “You are right. I have finally gotten what I deserve,” she murmured, as a tear silently slid down her cheek.

  “No one deserves what you have just gotten,” he disagreed.

  “None the less, I have no other recourse.”

  Grange lifted her cold fingers to his lips and began to kiss them, as the tears got the better of her. He wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, but he didn’t dare. His heart was as stricken as hers and he might find himself crying along with her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lavonia sat with the paper in her lap, afraid to open it. She knew everyone else in the town was reading what she dreaded looking at. Finally she steeled herself, and opened the sheet, trying to keep her lips from trembling. At the turn of a card, the celebrated young spinster, Miss Hampton, has found her match. Match for matrimony, that is. Max Paddington, who was widowed in his youth, has finally accomplished his long vigil of asking for Miss Hampton’s hand in marriage. As reluctant as ever, Miss Hampton had to accept Paddington’s offer, since he held the high cards over Mr. Hampton, who stood to lose everything, if Miss Hampton did not agree to accept the offer, when Mr. Hampton lost the last hand.

  With brave fortitude, Miss Hampton bowed to Paddington’s offer, rather than allow her father to lose his house and finances. The much sought after talk of the town beauty, has reluctantly stepped down from her pedestal, but some may consider it more like toppling down, since she had little choice in the matter between becoming destitute or marrying Max Paddington.

  Well, she thought begrudgingly to herself. At least he was almost kind in his report, calling her brave, and saying she had little choice in the matter. She closed the paper, and set it aside. She had not talked to her father since the night before, and vowed she would never speak to him again. The one thing she did say to him, was that she would not allow him to walk her down the aisle, and if she didn’t faint on her journey down the aisle, she would consider herself lucky.

  When the bell rang, she rose to answer it, not even caring who it was. When she saw Max standing there, she realized she really did care who it was, because she did not want to see him again until the day he forced her down the aisle.

  “What are you doing here?” she bawled.

  “I have come to bring you to my house to introduce you to my mother, before our wedding day,” he informed her.

  She took a long look at him, hating every feature from his hooked nose to his beady impersonal eyes. “I have met your mother before. She is a wrinkled snip of a woman who promenades her beastly little dogs, where ever she goes, even to banquets and entertainments. She has no couth, to speak of, and shouldn’t call herself a lady. She is rude, and puts herself above the rest of us, when in truth, she appears to be a little beetle that should be squashed under someone’s foot!”

  “Saying rude things about my mother is not going to make me back out of this marriage,” he smiled slyly. “Personally, I agree with you completely, but she is my mother, and demands you be presented to her.”

  “Don’t expect me to be gracious to her then,” Lavonia said, as she grabbed her shawl, and walked out beside him, ignoring the arm he offered her.

  She shrugged his hand away, when he attempted to help her up in his carriage, and when he sat down beside her, she removed herself to the other side of the carriage, facing him, but not looking into his face. They did not have far to travel. She knew exactly where the distasteful family lived. His house was the ugliest mansion she had ever laid eyes on. Who ever designed the house certainly came out of the dark ages, topping the dormers with gargoyles, their hideous faces staring down at her.

  “Ah, I see your mother has had her likeness topped above every window,” she smirked at him, as the footman opened the door for them.

  She did take the footman’s hand, to assist her down, since she didn’t have anything against him. She even smiled sweetly at him, when she saw him admiring her. But it was ill manner to flirt with a foot man, so she restrained herself, though she would have liked to do it just to flaunt it in the face of Max.

  The ancient looking doors, covered with tooled carvings that were just as disagreeable to her as the gargoyles, were opened by the footman, and the butler was there at the door to usher them in.

  “She wishes to speak to you alone,” Max told her, and she followed the butler to the door of the sitting room.

  The suits of armor, and shields on the walls, reminded Lavonia of a castle, rather than a welcoming home. Queen of her castle, she thought to herself about Max’s mother, before the butler opened the door and announced her.

  The door shut solidly behind her, making her feel like she was being shut in a prison with the woman who would be her warden of sorts, once she moved into the repulsive house. Immediately the little dogs ran from under the woman’s skirts and started yapping at Lavonia, and she gave one a kick, when it got too close, causing it to yelp and run back for safety under the disagreeable woman’s skirts. The woman sat in a high backed chair, straight and stiff, with high piled white hair, but she was much shorter than Lavonia herself was, so Lavonia refused to be frightened of the old witch. She watched as Mrs. Paddington raised her quizzing glass and looked Lavonia up and down. “So you finally got your clutches into my son, did you?” she said in a gravely voice. “I’ve read about you in the rags.”

  Lavonia tried to stifle a laugh. “Me get my clutches into your poor dear boy? Your poor dear boy is a conniving, ruthless man, who won me in a game of cards. If you are displeased in this match, I pray you take it up with him, and end my misery!”

  “I have tried to dissuade him, to no avail. He has his heart set on you, but I will tell you, as I have told him. I hold the purse strings in this family. Once I am gone he will not see a penny of my money. I will leave enough in trust to run the house, and that is all. If you think you have fallen into a pot of jam, you are quite mistaken!”

  “What I have fallen into is a witches, brew,” she told her. “I do not want your son, or your money, or your name. This is a forced marriage, and your son will rue the day he decided to claim me at the turn of a card.”

  The old woman started laughing. “I like you girl, though I don’t want you as a daughter-in-law, or a Paddington. But you have spirit, and that I respect. You can go now.” she waved her hand as if swatting away a fly.

  Lavonia, turned from the room, walked out the door, and went to the front door without a word. Max came up beside her. “I do not need you to see me home,” she hissed in his direction. I don’t wish to see your face until our wedding day, and even then, I shall find it difficult to look upon your ugly face. You may end up owing my body, but you wil
l never own my spirit,” she informed him, and walked out to his carriage, where the footman helped her in and then climbed up behind.

  As she stepped down from the carriage, another carriage slowed, and she saw it was Grange, who had pulled up. “I came by to see how you were fairing,” he said, as the other carriage pulled away.

  “Do come in, Grange,” she surprised him by saying. “I need the company. I am about to go mad!”

  Grange stepped out of his carriage, and took Lavonia’s elbow. “Your blue walking gown looks divine on you, my darling,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you Grange. At least you got the color right,” she smiled. He was surprised she did not rise at him calling her darling. “I want to thank you for the sympathetic way you wrote your article about me in the morning rags. Not one scathing remark. It must have been difficult to restrain yourself,” she smiled as they entered the door, which he opened for her, knowing she did not have a door man or a butler.

  “No need to tease you on something you had no hand in,” he muttered. “I dare say that every person in this town will come to your wedding, invited or not.”

  “And, of course, you will be there to report on it,” she added.

  “Of course.”

  Suddenly Lavonia turned to him, as they stood in the entrance hall. “Oh, Grange, I am so frightened. I hate the man, and when he looks at me, I know what he is thinking. He can’t wait to ravish me, I can tell.”

  “What man wouldn’t want to ravish you, my dear,” he said softly. “I just fear he may not have a gentle hand.”

  “How can I stop him?” she asked as she looked up pleadingly into his eyes.

  “I fear it is his right as a husband. He may beat you, if you refuse,” Grange mumbled, his green eyes turning dark.

  “I know nothing as to what to expect,” she whispered.

  “The first time will be painful, but it may get better after that,” he warned.

  “The first time what?” she asked.

  “When he takes his husbandly rights,” he mumbled, wondering if it was proper to speak to her of such things.”

  “Rights?” she breathed. “What rights do you speak of? I know he can’t wait to slobber all over my skin, and touch my breasts. The thought of it is abhorring. But other than disgusting, what part of it is painful?”

  “Don’t you know how a man’s built?” he questioned. “Have you not seen any statues of nude men?” This was troubling to Grange, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to educate her in such things, but alas, she had no mother to instruct her, and she had told him, she would never speak to her father again.

  “Yes, of course,” she tried to keep the blush from her cheeks, speaking about this with Grange, but who else could she confide in? “Only I never look at that part of them,” she admitted. “It isn’t lady like!”

  “When have you ever been lady like?” Grange chuckled. “Just the same, you should have,” he smiled, and then straightened his face, because he realized she was being serious with him for the first time since he had known her. “A man is built to fit inside of a woman. It is the only way she can bare children,” he finally explained, hoping she did not ask for any detail in the matter.

  “I would never bare him a child,” she almost shrieked.

  “He may keep at you until you do,” he informed her.

  “I don’t think I can survive this,” Lavonia cried, turning her head away, and instinctively, Grange reached out and pulled her against his strong, hard body.

  “You will have to,” he whispered against her hair.

  “I have never even been kissed,” she murmured into his chest. “And now this?” Her whole body shuddered, at the thought.

  “Never?” he asked, tilting her chin up to him.

  “Never,” she responded.

  “Would you like me to give you a small preview?” he asked hesitantly, bracing himself for a slap.

  “It wouldn’t matter. I would be loathed to be kissed by him,” she mumbled.

  “I wouldn’t mind showing you,” he prodded, knowing this was his last chance to ever feel her lips against his.

  “Alright,” she whispered, surprising him, and lifting her head.

  Grange, looked down upon her upturned face, and wanted to cry. The poor girl was being sacrificed for the lust of a man, who would take her regardless of what she wanted, and she had no choice but to comply. Slowly, he lowered his lips to her small pink mouth, and gently touched them. The electricity that flowed through his body at the feel of her lips on his, did not surprise him, because he had dreamed of this moment since she had been sixteen. Carefully, he began to move his lips against hers, building pressure, as his arms pulled her closer to him, and then he couldn’t help himself, as he let his passion run free, expecting her to pull away any moment, but instead he felt her arms reach up around his neck, as she clung to him, and he continued the kiss.

  When he pulled away, Lavonia stood breathless. “I never dreamed it could feel that way,” she murmured. “And to think, this is what I have been missing, this whole time! I should have married you when you asked me,” she admitted, staring boldly up at him, knowing it didn’t make any difference now, one way or the other. It would be that beastly Max who would insist on kissing her, and she was certain his kiss would never affect her the way Grange’s kiss had.

  “I should go,” he said. “He was afraid that at any moment, he would just carry her upstairs, and continue giving her lessons on what to expect on her wedding night. Hearing her admit to him that she should have married him, almost broke his heart.

  “Thank you Grange. There is a little bit of kindness in you after all,” she smiled, and he turned from her before he did something he would regret.

  Lavonia closed the door behind him and then ran upstairs and threw herself onto her bed and started weeping bitter tears. She touched her lips, remembering how Grange’s lips felt on her. He had only done it because he felt sorry for her, though. She knew how much he hated her for turning him down all those years ago. She realized now, that had been an unwise decision on her part. Too late now to bemoan over it. Her future was already sealed.

  *****************

  Lavonia, walked slowly down the aisle towards the man she loathed, who was smiling at her with such a look of lust on his face, she just wanted to slap him. Grange was right. The church was filled to overflowing, and people stood outside as well, to see the talk of the town, brought low in this despicable marriage. She couldn’t wait until it was over with, as her numb body moved one leg in front of the other, forcing herself to move down the aisle.

  Grange watched with worried eyes. The look on her face broke his heart more than her refusal to marry him. But there was nothing he could do, short of rushing in and just carrying her away, which he knew he could not get away with, so he stood, his heart in his throat, and his fists clenched in self restraint.

  Lavonia at last made it to the alter, where Max stood. She refused to look at him, and when the preacher asked her the questions, she would not answer. She could tell that Max was angry at her for being so belligerent. When she wouldn’t answer, Max mumbled, “She has agreed to this marriage, so continue.”

  When it was asked if anyone who knows a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace, Grange was tempted to speak up, but a gambling debt was a gentleman’s agreement, and could not be broken.

  At the end when Max was told he could kiss the bride, she turned her face from him, so the kiss merely landed on her cheek, and Grange started clapping, before anyone else did. Not because of the marriage, but because of the misplaced kiss.

  Max walked beside Lavonia, as they headed out to the carriage, parked in front of the church. He had tried to put his hand on her waist, but she pulled away, and glared at him. He made no effort to help her up into the carriage, despite the many yards of net and satin of her wedding dress, that encumbered her. The material caught on the step of the carriage, and Lavonia, m
erely ripped it away, leaving a piece of the hem behind. She ripped her veil off of her head and threw it out of the window, and Max frowned at her.

  “Stop throwing a tantrum,” he demanded. “You are now my wife, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

  “I am not your wife. I am your piece of flesh, bought and paid for. I will never be your wife!” She turned her face from him, as the carriage carried her closer to that ghastly house she was going to be forced to live in.

  As soon as the carriage arrived, she jumped down, and headed for the doors of the house, which were opened for her by the foot man who had a hard time keeping up with her as she stormed up the walk. Max was close behind her. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked, as she headed up the stairs.

  “I am going to find a room and lock myself in it,” she informed him.

  “You will do no such thing,” he said as he reached for her arm, but she pulled away, which caused the sleeve to rip off in his hand.

  Max angrily tossed the sleeve aside, and continued after her, grabbing at her skirt, and almost tripping her in the process. “I shall have my wedding night,” Max growled, as he grabbed the back of her neck and directed her into his room. Then he closed the door and locked it.

  “I shall fight you tooth and nail,” she warned.

  “I don’t mind a little tussle. It excites me,” he informed her, as he walked towards her.

  “You will not touch me,” she growled, as she backed up, but only ended up backing into the four poster bed, and falling back onto it.

  “Just stay there,” he commanded, as he began removing his clothes. “You may think I am short, but you will find me well endowed,” he chuckled, as he dropped his trousers.

  Lavonia’s eyes widened, as she looked shockingly at what she had always averted her eyes from, when seeing nude statues of men. He looked ugly grotesque and what she was looking at seemed to take on a life of it’s own, as he swaggered towards her. “Now it is your turn, my dear,” he told her, as he came closer, his nudity almost making her want to faint.